The Woman in 221C
by MacbethWannabe
Summary: Susan is just an average silly and loving woman/mum… who also happens to be a tad crazy and great with a blade and gun. Join her and her son, Rhys, as they make enemies and friends with your favorite characters. Also, how Susan manages to win the heart of the most dangerous man in the world, Jim Moriarty. Jim Moriarty/OC Rated T for language ON HIATUS
1. Meet, Ms Turner

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SHERLOCK. THAT RIGHT BELONGS TO MARK GATISS, STEVEN MOFFAT, AND SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE. I FEAR THAT IF I LIED AND CLAIMED SHERLOCK, MARK WOULD INSULT MY CLOTHING, STEVEN WOULD SICK THE WEEPING ANGELS ON ME AND SIR ARTHUR WOULD COME BACK AS A ZOMBIE TO EAT MY BRAINS. **

Ages:

Sherlock Holmes- **34**

John Watson- **36**

Mycroft Holmes- **41**

Greg Lestrade- **48**

Jim Moriarty- **33**

Molly Hooper- **29**

Susan Turner- **29**

The Woman in 221C

CHAPTER 1: Meet, Ms. Turner

"Thanks, Susie for the help!"

"No prob, sweetie. Now hurry back to the others. You don't want the others to watch the movie without you, do ya?"

The little boy smiled and ran off to back room where the rest of the children were watching a flick. Susan look around the playroom, it was a wreck. Next to her foot was a monstrous version of Potato Head. Poor thing, it never stood a chance with the little demons. She smiled fondly. Of course, the children at the daycare were little fiends, but by golly-o-mally they were her little fiends.

She danced around the room and hummed a Bee Gee's tune, as she picked up the toys and disinfected the counters.

"Well, well, well if it isn't garbage girl?" Susan heard two sets of galling laughter behind her. "I see that you are trying to teach the children again. A janitor trying to be a teacher, how wretched. Wouldn't you say Karen?" The plump girl snickered at her friend's comment.

"Yeah, you tell her Marsha."

Susan simply ignored them and continued working. Yet, that did not sit well with the two "teachers".

"You must think you are soooo _smart_? Well, news flash, you are nothing and you will always be nothing more than a garbage girl." Marsha tipped over used paint water and the floor was covered with a variety of watered down colors.

Susan stopped humming and just stared at the growing puddle, her face showing no emotion. Which in truth, she was showing emotion; boredom. However, to these idiots, it just looked like she was putting on a poker face to hide her anguish. People were so dreadfully predictable. Susan figured out everything before it happened. The plump girl would next pick up the tempera paint and "accidently" drop it causing an even bigger mess, because the excitement filled her head with stupid courage.

When Karen reached for the tempera, Susan rolled her eyes. These women were excruciatingly tedious. Before the tempera even hit the ground, she was walking towards the closet where the mop was kept.

"Opps!" their guffawing was really starting to grate on her nerves but she swallowed it. Susan went back to her humming and cleaning the mess, never once looking at them. She hated looking at people. She would notice things about them, figure out all their dirty little secrets. She could ruin Marsha's entire career from the scraps of her knees and make Karen suicidal by her choice in shoes and the brooch she was wearing today. She just wished she could turn it off, and be… Normal? Average? Well, be just less her. If that even makes sense.

Susan knew that her intelligence level was rare, but looking at her records, she was an idiot. She never finished high school or got her GED, it was entirely too boring for her liking. Also, she liked to use average words and slang. She just wanted to be like the other stupid girls, who had pathetic lives, but it was enough for them. But as much as she despised her talents, they did come in handy. They saved her sanity by giving her responsibility. It gave her a son.

She had first noticed the little boy at her last apartment. Her talent told her all about this boy and how he was abused and if she did help today, he would die tonight. She decided that she wanted him, so she took him. Some would call it kidnapping, but it is only kidnapping when it is reported. It was amazing on how a well-aimed gun to the mother's head could entrust complete silence. Yes, she killed the slag, but not only because she wanted to. Was it really two years ago? Time really flew by.

Susan had just wiped up the floor, when suddenly it was covered in blue paint. "Having fun?"

"Yes, we are. Are you?" Marsha said smirking.

"Too busy not giving a fuck," a smile tugged at Susan's lips. "But you Marsha _are_ busy giving a fuck… to a certain staff member."

"YOU LYING BITCH!"

Susan ignored her, she was more concerned with buzzing in her pocket. *1 new text message.*

_Dearie, come to London and see the sights!_

What a strange text from a very strange man. Though she had never met him, he seems right peculiar. But hey, who was she to judge. She knew something and he was willing to pay a lot for it. This money will change Rhys's life. That little tyke was worth every insult she took, falling down stairs from a spiteful shove to the back, cleaning up vomit, and getting herself involved in shady business deals.

Susan smirked and pocketed her phone. She looked up at Marsha and Karen, then at the mop in her hand. She tossed at their feet.

"It is your mess, clean it up. I have places to be and people to see. I am a very important person."

Susan walked around the two stunned women and headed to the back room where the kids were watching a movie. She peeked into the room and saw her little boy, sitting in the corner reading a book with a flashlight. It did not surprise her; Rhys had always chosen his books over the children, well people in general. He was no longer jumpy, like he used to be. He had become cold to the other children, though he liked play practical jokes on the ones who teased him. Susan and her grandmother were the only ones Rhys cared about, everyone else was simply nothing.

Susan tapped lightly on the wall 4 times. The youngsters watching the movies either didn't hear or didn't care, but Rhys knew. That was one of their secret codes. His head snapped up from his book and looked at the door. Once he saw his mummy he started to put his books in his carry-bag, and made his way over to Susan.

"Did you get the munny?" Rhys knew all about the business deal, he may only be seven, but he was quite brilliant.

"Only some, but it still a whole bunch," she whispers back. "We are leaving for London."

"Grandma's then. Good, the children here were starting to get to me. I was starting to feel my IQ drop every time one of them would speak."

"Oh, hush," she said as gave her son a playful shove, in which he returned. They did not bother to alert anyone as they walked out of building and headed for the local train station.

-0-0-0-

"Susan, it is wonderful to see you! Hello, Rhys!" Mrs. Turner did not hug her grandson, not sure if he would appreciate the gesture. So she settled with patting his shoulder. "You're such a handsome young man."

Rhys smiled and hugged his grandma, well technically his great-grandma, but he never got to know his grandma because she had already passed on from cancer before Susan found him. "Grandma, you are family. You can hug me."

Mrs. Turner had long gave up on trying to work out her granddaughter and grandson's big brains. "So what brings you here to London, Susan?"

"Business. I was wondering if you had a place for Rhys and I to stay."

"I'm sorry love, the room has been taken up. I have some married ones as rents now. I think my friend might have a room still. Though, it is a bit rough. Her nice flat was taken up by a very strange and rude man, but his boyfriend is quite nice. I heard he was a doctor, shame. We could have set you up on a date, lord knows you need one."

"Grandma!"

"I'll give Martha a ring and see about the rent. Susan, could you put kettle on, please?"

"I can do it mummy."

"Oh, you are such a gentleman," Susan said as she nuzzled her son's now blushing cheek. He was so easy to embarrass.

Susan waited until son was in the kitchen. She peeked around the corner to make sure he was busy. She watched as he gripped the kettle with both hands and filled it with water. He had to stand on his tippy toes to reach the sink. Susan raised both her hands to her face and silently swooned. Her son was entirely too cute!

As Rhys was digging through the cabinet, Susan ninja rolled over to her grandmother who let out a yelp, almost dropping her mobile. Susan pressed her finger to her lips and did a quick glance over both shoulders. "Don't drink the tea," she whispered.

"What?" Mrs. Turner whispered back.

"Don't drink the tea."

"Why not?"

"It's lethal. The first time I had a cuppa of his tea I thought I was literally going to die."

"Oh stop being dramatic," Mrs. Turner waved Susan off and returned her attention backed to her mobile.

Susan looked up at the ceiling and her eyebrows knitted. "No, really I thought I was going to die. Was in the hospital for three weeks. Wrote up my will and everything. I left Rhys's care to you, well in hope you wouldn't drink his tea. I truly do not know how he makes tea so deadly, all he uses is basic ingredients. It is an art form all on its own."

"Wha…?"

"You don't want Rhys?" Susan asked, heartbroken. "I thought you loved my darling little boy." Susan dramatically threw herself in the corner of the room and sulked.

"Oh, no that is absurd! I love, Rhys!"

Susan immediately recovered and smiled brightly, "That's good! You and Rhys are all I have. There is no one else to send him too."

Mrs. Turner's shoulders fell. She really wished Susan would find someone to settle down with. Rhys will eventually grow up and leave the nest and she herself wasn't getting any younger. However, before she could say anything Rhys reentered the sitting room with a tray of three cups of the deadly brew.

Susan and her grandmother sat on the loveseat facing the telly. Rhys gave his mummy her cuppa, she smiled lovingly at him and Rhys returned her smile with one of his own. When Rhys momentarily turned to his grandmother, Susan quickly dumped the fatal beverage in the potted plant. Rhys sat down in the armchair to the left, his feet unable to touch the floor. Susan inwardly squealed at his overall cuteness.

Mrs. Turner placed the cup against her lips until she remembered that she had yet to call Martha about the flat. She placed her cup down and rushed over to her mobile. Susan's shoulders relaxed.

Susan scooted down the seat closer to her son as she waited for her grandmother to finish her call. She grabbed her son's foot and Rhys instantly noticed the playful move. Susan placed his foot on her lap.

"Man, I am famished! Oh look, a delicious looking leg on my lap." Susan leaned over and pretended to eat his leg, while Rhys laughed.

"Om nom nom nom nom!"

Rhys rolled around in his chair, laughing. Susan looked up and reached over, pulling Rhys on her lap. "Still hungry!"

She lifted his shirt and blew raspberries on his stomach. Rhys howled with laughter and tried to push her away. Susan set up straight and smiled down at her little boy, Rhys wrapped his arms around her neck and buried his face in her neck.

"I love you, mummy," he whispered into her hair.

"I love you too, more then you'll ever know."

_Click_

"Adorable! I cannot wait to get this one developed. I will get a copy for you, Susan," Mrs. Turner said, smiling. "Also, I just got off the phone with Martha. She is absolutely thrilled that someone wants to rent out that flat. She said you could come over today, if you wanted. I even got you a discount."

"What is the address?"

"221C Baker Street."

**A/N: So what did you think? Did you love it or hate it? Please, let me know! I love hearing from readers. Let me know what you would like to happen, any mistakes I made, or just what you thought of it. Till next till -Macbeth**


	2. The boys at Baker Street

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SHERLOCK. THAT RIGHT BELONGS TO MARK GATISS, STEVEN MOFFAT, AND SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE. I FEAR THAT IF I LIED AND CLAIMED SHERLOCK, MARK WOULD INSULT MY CLOTHING, STEVEN WOULD SICK THE WEEPING ANGELS ON ME AND SIR ARTHUR WOULD COME BACK AS A ZOMBIE TO EAT MY BRAINS. **

Ages/Couples:

Jim Moriarty- **33/ **Susan Turner- **29**

Sherlock Holmes- **34/** Molly Hooper- **29**

John Watson- **36/ **Mary Morstan- **28**

Mycroft Holmes- **41/ **Greg Lestrade- **48**

Irene Adler- **32/ **?

Sebastian Moran- **35/ **Random Women + His hand

**A/N: I would like to give a special shout out to Dark Magical Sorcres. Thank you again for giving this story a chance. :D**

The Woman in 221C

Chapter 2: The boys at Baker Street

"You must be Susan and this handsome young man must be Rhys. Mrs. Turner has told me so much about you two, it is so nice to meet you both. I am Martha Hudson."

"It is nice to meet you, Mrs. Hudson."

Mrs. Hudson led Susan and Rhys down the hallway to the flat. "Too bad the boys just left. John seemed delighted to have more company in this house, especially when I said it was a young lady who was looking at the flat," Mrs. Hudson winked at her.

"John is the doctor, right? My Grandmother said the two men were were dating."

"Hmmm, Mrs. Turner is behind on her gossip. The two men are not dating. John makes that quite clear. Yes, dearie, John is the doctor. He is as sweet as could be and rather attractive. Quite the catch," Mrs. Hudson smirked at Susan. "He is also wonderful with kids. Would make an excellent father…" Mrs. Hudson went to make a pointed look at Rhys so Susan would get her message, but he had seemed to wonder off.

"Mummy, come look at this!" Rhys called from the other room.

"Well I'll leave you two alone for a bit to check out the flat. Come find me when you made a decision."

Mrs. Hudson left the flat and Susan made her way over to the bedroom were Rhys was located. She noticed that he was hovering over a pair of retro sneakers. She tossed him her spare pocket magnifier, which he easily caught.

"Suspicious," Rhys muttered.

"My sentiments exactly," Susan picked up one of the shoes with a gloved hand. She examined the shoe, before sitting it back exactly in its original place. "Analysis, Rhys."

"Hmm, these shoes were planted. Their location is too exact to have been left behind by a previous owner. However, we were not the ones meant to find them. Whoever did this could not have possibly known we were coming to the flat. This was meant for someone else to find. The question is who?" Rhys picked up a shoe and examined it with the magnifier, "The shoes are done in a retro style, very eighties. Good condition, I would say new but the sole is well worn. A child's shoe, going by the name written in the shoe. These belong to a boy… who had weak arches. The owner loved these shoes, changed the laces four times."

"Anything else?"

"No. So, how did I do?"

"Wonderful. My turn." Rhys handed over the shoe to his mummy, excited at what she would see. He loved watching his brilliant mummy at work.

"Excellent analysis. However, you missed some things. See where you can tell he changed his laces, there are traces of skin. This young man had eczema. In addition, the shoes are not replicas, they are originals. British made, twenty years old."

"Twenty years old?"

"Yes, you can tell by the two blue strips here. Limited edition, 1988… no, 1989. Yet, they still look new. Someone had to have kept them this way."

"Brilliant."

Susan had just placed the shoe back on the floor when she heard muffled noises from outside the flat. Susan and Rhys walked back out to the shabby sitting room. Rhys opened the door to three men and Mrs. Hudson.

"Sorry, love. Sherlock and the boys said that they needed to see something in the flat," Mrs. Hudson apologized.

"Yes, yes, Mrs. Hudson that will be all," The man described as Sherlock said as he closed the door on Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock turned toward Susan, "Hello, My name is…"

"Sherlock Holmes. Yes, I know," Susan reached out and shook his hand. "And you two must be John Watson and Detective Inspector Lestrade."

"Just Greg," Lestrade said, winking at Susan.

"Careful, Inspector. He is a married man," Sherlock warned Susan. "Wait, who's Greg?"

Susan rolled her eyes at Sherlock's question and reached out taking Lestrade's hand, while did his own Rhys eye rolling behind her, "Never stopped me before, besides his wife is cheating on him anyways."

"How did you know that?" Lestrade asked bewildered.

"I didn't know, I noticed, Detective Inspector." Susan turned towards John. "I speak for Rhys and myself that we are both a big admirers."

"An admirer?" John asked, his face turning a deep shade of scarlet as he looked at the beautiful blonde.

"Yes, of your blog! That is how I knew your names," Susan smiled brightly at the blushing soldier. "Rhys and I read all your updates; we really liked the _Study in Pink_. However, you do not write much about you past. So I have to ask, Iran or Afghanistan?"

"What?"

"You're a soldier. Your haircut and stance tell me so. Your face and hands are tanned, but you have a tan line on your wrist and neck. Meaning you were not sunbathing, you were wearing a uniform, besides you don't seem the type to sunbath. You were discharged because you were shot. Left shoulder? You also have a callous on your hand that is only caused by the use of a cane, so psychosomatic limp it is. However, you aren't carrying a cane. That means you no longer see your therapist. Must have been thanks to this man, he has supplied you with a daily dose of danger and adventure. Just what the doctor ordered," Susan said winking at John. "So the question remains Iran or Afghanistan?"

"Oh for the love of god, they are breeding."

"Brilliant, mummy!"

Susan's chest swelled with pride at her son's compliment and Rhys soon found himself in his mummy's arms as twirled them round and round. However, as quickly as it started, it ended and Rhys was back on his own two feet.

Susan turned toward Sherlock, "Did you really not know that the Earth revolves around the sun?"

Sherlock glared at John, who suddenly found the flooring very captivating.

"I don't mean it as an insult," Susan reassured.

"Mummy didn't know either," Rhys piped in. "She tends to delete things that she doesn't deem important."

Sherlock evaluated Susan with newfound interest and respect. "Though I never had been called 'spectacularly ignorant' in a public blog before," Susan chuckled and just like that all the respect Sherlock had for the woman was gone.

Susan clapped her together, gaining the attention of room's occupants. "But what are we still standing out here for? You lot are here for trainers."

"Trainers?" John and Lestrade questioned, Sherlock just pushed past them.

As they rest of them were making their way to the back room, Susan pulled Greg off to the side.

"I have this friend and I think if would give a whirl, I know guys would really hit it off."

"I am still married," Lestrade warned as eyed the young woman in front of approvingly.

"Oh, you silly goose! Not me. That was not a roundabout way of asking you out, though you are quite dishy," she said winking at the DI. "I really do have a friend named Myc. Also, don't worry about the whole marriage thing. Divorce papers are easily written."

"I can't throw away my wife for a chance at a blind date with some bird."

"Ya, you can. The slag is cheating on you anyways. You should have left her ages ago, but you didn't because of your daughter. I am positive she will side with you of you explain why you are leaving. Also Myc is not a bird, he is bloke."

"I know, I know… whoa, wait a minute. I am not gay," Lestrade claimed stumbling backwards.

"I'll give him a ring. I know he will be up for it," Susan said, ignoring Lestrade's denial. "Oh, he is soooo going to owe me big time. Been biding his time for years waiting and I have accomplished it in mere minutes," Susan chuckled darkly as she dramatically rubbed her hands together like some black and white movie villain.

"What? Are you even listening to me? I'm not gay."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I…"

"Shut it," Susan snaps, cutting him off. She theatrically points her finger at the now disordered and slightly scared detective. "All your opinions from her on out are non-void! If don't agree to this date, I…I… will have Rhys make you a cup of _tea_," Susan finished smoothly.

"Tea? Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?"

"Most definitely."

Lestrade did not know how tea could be a threat, but the evil glint in her eyes made him feel that denying this mad woman would be the death of him. Literally.

"Okay, I'll go. Just dinner, no kissing or touching. Just dinner."

"Marvy!" Susan chirped.

"Lestrade!" Sherlock called from the other room. Susan and Lestrade made their way to the Consulting Detective. When they entered the room, John turned towards them.

"Sherlock just got a call from the bomber."

"Bomber?" Susan asked her cocked to the side.

John opened his mouth to explain, but Sherlock cut him off, "No time, John. Let's go!"

"Rhys and I will come with you."

"No," Sherlock glared at the woman before walking out with the sneakers in hand.

John mouthed an apology before following his friend, with Lestrade in tow.

"Don't forget about your date!" Susan called out to the DI. "I will text you the details!"

Lestrade did not even want to know how she has or will get his number, but she was too similar to Sherlock for it to surprise him.

Susan waited about twenty minutes before she pulled out her phone and dialed a well-used number. "Hello, Jane. I like Jane better. Don't care. Rhys says hi. No, he really didn't. He just doesn't know you. That's different. He thinks Myc is too lazy to be exciting, and I quote 'He is chubby because he won't come out and play games with me'. You should have seen his face. Priceless! Oh, yeah I need a ride. Okay, see you in five. Ta-ta, love!"

0000000000000

Susan and Rhys walked down the hallway of St. Barts. Susan turned the corner when and she collided with a solid moving object.

"Oh my goodness! I am so sorry!" The meek woman stuttered.

Susan cupped her breasts and jiggled them. The stranger was so alarmed by Susan sudden act she was speechless.

"No prob, doll face! The goods aren't damaged," Susan grinned and stuck out her hand. "I am Susan." Susan bent and read the stranger's nametag the woman blushed cherry red. "I like you, Molly. I don't what it is about you, but I like it."

"That was quite the run in."

Susan peered around her new friend. She saw a man a little taller than her own short stature. He was wearing a v-neck and designer jeans, with lime green trimmed boxers peeking out. Can you say hottie?! Moreover, his accent is Irish. Hottie McHottie! However, there was something seriously off about this man. Something very dangerous. He playing at something and she was going to find out what that game was.

Susan glanced back at Molly, "So is this your boyfriend?"

Molly smiled and shuffled her feet, "Yes, this is Jim from IT. Office romance."

"I know who Jim is!"

"You know each other?' Molly asked surprised but, thankfully, not suspicious.

"Oh yeah!" Susan walked up beside Jim and wrapped her arm around his shoulder and roughly drew him into her side. "Cousins on my Dad's side. My god, it has been years Jim," she exclaimed, lying on the spot.

Rhys caught on to what his mummy was doing and grabbed Molly's hand. "I am hungry. Show me the cafeteria?"

"But... but I have to…"

"Please?" Rhys pleads, his eyes looking up at her through long eyelashes.

"Okay," Molly surrendered and led the demanding child to the cafeteria, leaving the "cousins" behind.

As soon as Molly and Rhys were out of earshot, Susan shoved Jim up against the wall.

"What the fuck are you playing at?"

Jim snickered ominously, "What's the matter, _cuz_? Besides what do you care?"

"Molly is my friend!"

"Friend? You have only known the boring idiot for five minutes."

"Shut your mouth," Susan snarled. "What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Playing. At?"

"I told you we would be in touch, though I admit that I wasn't planning on seeing you here."

"What?"

"So how are enjoying London, dearie? Have you seen the sights?"

Susan gasped as she released him, staggering backwards. Jim straightened his shirt and grinned at the dumbfounded woman.

"Moriarty."

**A/N: So what did you think? Did you love it or hate it? Please, let me know! I love hearing from readers. Let me know what you would like to happen, any mistakes I made, or just what you thought of it. Till next till -Macbeth**


	3. Ms Turner is a Knockout!

**DISCLAIMER: SEE CHAPTER 1 OR CHAPTER 2, WHATEVER ONE SUITS YOUR FANCY.**

Ages/Couples:

Jim Moriarty- **33/ **Susan Turner- **29**

Sherlock Holmes- **34/** Molly Hooper- **29**

John Watson- **36/ **Mary Morstan- **28**

Mycroft Holmes- **41/ **Greg Lestrade- **48**

Irene Adler- **32/ **?

Sebastian Moran- **35/ **Random Women + His hand

**A/N: I finally saw Skyfall. Loved it! The whole time I was expecting Jim Moriarty to appear. Also, Mallory? More like Mycroft! …wait… James Bond- John, Q- Sherlock, M- Lestrade….. oh, that gives me a wonderful idea! Though I will not mind if someone takes it from me, just let know so I can read it! :D**

The Woman in 221C

Chapter 3: Ms. Turner is a Knock Out

"In the flesh," Jim said with a mock bow. "I was planning a much more extravagant introduction, but Jim from IT will have to do."

Susan flinched as Jim approached her and he did not miss the frightened movement, "So where is your bite now?" Jim said as he circled the terrified woman. "I am not a forgiving man, Ms. Turner. You assaulted me, unprovoked mind you, and that will just not do. You must be punished."

An unpleasant chill ran up her spine as his sickly sweet voice washed over her, "So, about your son…"

Jim didn't even get to finish his sentence before he was sliding down the wall. He could feel the bruise blossoming on his face and he was positive his nose was broken.

"Oh my goodness, what happened?" Susan turned to see both Molly and Rhys. Molly's face was a mixture of worry and shock, Rhys on the other hand was nonchalant as usual, as he munched on his Honey Bun.

Susan watched as Molly lifted Jim up, after he set his nose. Molly turned towards Susan, "What happened?" there was no malice in her words. Molly was not accusing or immediately taking Jim's side, she was just trying to get to the bottom of the incident, peacefully as possible. Susan knew, then and there, why she liked Molly. She was pure innocence and she would be damned before she would ruin it. Therefore, she lied even if Molly would hate her.

"I punched him because I wanted too," Susan said as she examined her fingernails.

Molly glared at her like Susan expected her too, but it was a necessary evil. She wouldn't put it past Moriarty to kill Molly out of pure spite and she refused to have Molly's blood on her hands.

Molly gripped Jim's hand and led him away. Susan watched her go. Molly looked back at Susan and mouthed 'Liar', while smiling. Susan smirked, maybe Molly wasn't so innocent.

"Time to go," Susan said. She turned quickly on her heels. "We need to tell, Mrs. Hudson that we are taking the flat."

"Already done. I called her up when I was with Molls."

"You know me too well. So… Molls, eh?" Susan commented, wagging her eyebrows. Rhys flushed a violent shade of red.

"What about Sherlock?" questioned Rhys. Susan noticed the evident attempt of changing the subject.

"Let him have his fun," Susan answered, letting Rhys maintain his poise. "We are going to find out all about Mr. Moriarty. I have been neglectful of my homework. However, there wasn't a need till now. He really should have stuck to the shadows. But, he got bored and started makin' threats," Susan glanced down at her son. "Personal ones."

"How are we going to do it? Hacking and espionage?" Rhys asked eagerly. The boy had really read one too many James Bond novels. She personally preferred the movies. Pierce Brosnan and Daniel Craige, did she need to say more?

"Oh, no much easier than that."

"What is easier than hacking?"

"Hush, little Q." Susan smirked and pulled out her phone. "Are you sure you are only seven?" she asked as she typed in a number.

"Hello, sister dear!" Susan said cheerfully after three rings. "How are you?"

O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O

"Do you need any help carrying these out, ma'am?"

"Ma'am? Good heavens, do I look that old?" Susan asked the flustered clerk. "Nah, I got it, mate. That is why I got the wagon. Well, that and…"

"I am not riding in that atrocious red contraption," Rhys firmly stated, horrified about the whole wagon ordeal.

"Ah, c'mon! Just think of the photos."

"No."

"You're no fun," Susan pouted. Her and Rhys loaded up the wagon and left the handy shop.

They were a few yards away from the flat, when a familiar black Mercedes pulled up beside them. Susan held up hand, telling the driver to wait.

"You go on. I will take these inside," said Rhys.

"You don't want to go with?"

"Hang out with chubby while you two talk about boys? Nope," Rhys answered and a dangerous glint entered his eyes. "I am going to scoop out the enemy territory."

"Without me?' Susan asked with mock betrayal.

"Yup!" he answered with a big toothy grin.

"The devil wears shorts and tees," Susan muttered. Rhys just chuckled darkly as he entered the flat. Susan rolled her eyes as she made her way back to the Mercedes.

"Hello, Jane," Susan greeted as she slid onto the high-grade leather.

"I told you, it's Anthea now."

"And I told you I didn't care. I win!" Susan smiled and stuck her tongue out at her friend. Anthea laughed.

"So, where is Myc taking me, anyways?"

"Le Gavroche."

"Oh, someone missed me."

"He said to wear this." Anthea handed over a designer bag, without even looking up from her phone. Susan once pickpocketed her phone and she had never seen such a terrified and angry combination. Susan smiled at the memory. "Don't even think about it," Anthea warned gripping her phone tighter.

O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O

Susan walked through the simple entryway of the world famous, five star restaurant.

"Name?" the handsome host asked, eyeing the woman in front of him.

"Holmes."

The young man's eye widened. He rushed around his podium to assist the woman. "Right this way, Ms. Turner."

Susan followed the young man through the restaurant. He did not say a word during the short walk. Most likely too scared now. When they reached the private venue, the host gave her a short bow and scurried back to his post.

Susan drew back the heavy velvet curtain. When she stepped thru, she saw Mycroft sitting in a chair, his back to her. She walked up to his chair and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"Hello, love," she said, kissing his cheek.

Mycroft grinned and pocketed his Blackberry. He rose from his seat as Susan's arms fell from his shoulder's. He turned and faced his closest friend.

"Good afternoon," Mycroft replied. He gestured to the chair opposite of his. When they were both seated, he continued, "So, I see you and the Omen child have finally decided to move to London. Also, you have decided to stay in the same building my brother and his toy soldier are staying in."

"Just the luck of the draw. Never expected to run into him. But he is quite the character, a lot of fun."

"Very lucky, indeed."

"No."

"Oh, you are as bad as John."

"It is a sense of understanding. Like how my sister cannot get you to spy on me, even with all the black mail. I understand the value of privacy." A waiter entered the private room. He set down a plate in front of each of them. "The Menu Exceptional? You spoil me."

"Not as much as I like too."

"Oh not this again…"

"Yes, this again. I do not understand how you can work yourself to the bone for penitence and then get involved with dangerous people for money, but you will not take a single pound from me, your supposed best friend." Mycroft growled. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I understand that you like to earn your money but your stubbornness is going to get you killed or worse, your son."

Susan looked away in shame, "Can we please not talk about this? I came to celebrate." Susan couldn't tell him the truth, not yet anyways. She never expected to see Moriarty at St. Bart's. If she had known, she would have never went.

Mycroft sighed and gave up on the topic, "I knew there was a reason you wore the dress," he said gesturing to the midnight blue silk dress that hugged her in all the right places. It was tradition for them to go out to lunch when both of them were free. Mycroft would buy her a dress and she would always refuse to wear it.

"And what, may I ask, are we celebrating?"

"You have a blind date Saturday. I had Jane clear you schedule for the night and he has agreed to it, well kinda."

"Susie, I don't want to go on a blind date. I want… well you know who I want."

"I know. That is why I set you have a date with Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade."

Mycroft choked his Merlot, "What?" he managed between gasps.

"You. Greg. Date. Saturday. And yes, in know. I am in_fucking_credible."

A slow smile spread across Mycroft's face as they returned their attention back to their food. They discussed appropriate date attire and possible locations for the rest of lunch. Susan did not once mention Moriarty.

O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O

When Susan left the restaurant she stepped into the waiting Mercedes. "Beautiful dress, Susan. Gift from the Ice Man?"

"Evenin', Jim. You should have joined us for lunch," Susan flashed a sly smile. "Evenin', Sebastian," she said to the rugged ex-army sniper. He nodded in acknowledgment.

"Oh goodie! You have done your homework," he praised, clapping his hands. "So you have talked with your sister. I am sure she warned you all about mean old Moriarty."

"Ya', along those lines," she said leaning back, crossing her legs.

"She must be ashamed to have such a stupid sister. Don't you know not to walk blindly into cars?"

"Yes, I taught it to my son. Also not to talk to creepy psychopaths," she said winking at Jim. "Besides you made it painfully obvious that it was you. The tread on your tire is about .50 cm shorter than Myc's. Like I said, obvious." Jim appraised the woman sitting opposite of him with interest.

"So are you taking me home or what? My show comes on soon and I plan on confiscating Sherlock's telly."

"Can't you afford your own? I gave you quite the advance."

"Yah, but this way is so much more fun."

"Certainly," Jim snapped his fingers and the car started forward. "Can't have you missing your program, granny."

Susan huffed but let the insult slid. "So about the deal, I killed the target and your information was wrong."

Jim didn't say anything he just stared at Susan for the rest of the ride. When they pulled up to 221 Baker Street, Susan damn near clawed her way out of the car. She had half body out of the vehicle when Jim gripped her arm and dragged her back to where she was facing him, "Do mistake me for a simpleton, Ms. Turner." He pushed her out of the car and she stumbled onto the concrete. "Ta-ta!" he said thru the window as he drove off.

Susan stood and straightened her dress. She looked at her watch, "Damn that little fucker! I missed the first half of Keeping Up Appearances!"

**A/N: Just to let my readers know, to clear up any questions about Rhys and Susan. In the first chapter where tells her grandma that she has nobody else to send Rhys to, still rings true. Mycroft's job is too unpredictable and besides that don't really like each other. In addition, her sister is too unreliable to look after Rhys. So what did you think? Did you love it or hate it? Please, let me know! I love hearing from readers. Let me know what you would like to happen, any mistakes I made, or just what you thought of it. Till next till -Macbeth**


	4. Wrathful insanity

**A/N: Just to let everyone know this is where the story changes. Some will remain the same, but a lot will change to accommodate the story. Hope you do not mind. Just to let you know, you will a very different side of Susan in this chapter and the ones after it. **

**Special shot out to reviewers; Watergoddesskasey: your reviews really made me smile. I loved them, thank you! Lyricalwishes: I am so glad you like it! Also check out Dark Magical Sorcres. She is an amazing writer! (No shame in advertising lol)**

**Disclaimer: See chapter 1 or 2. Either one works.**

The Woman in 221C

Chapter 4: Wrathful insanity

"Boss, should we move the package from the back to the front? It might get damaged," asked Sebastian Moran, Ex-military Colonel Sniper, second most dangerous man in London, and the closest thing to a friend to the notorious Jim Moriarty.

"Oh, it will be fine. I just want to see Susan's face when she finds it missing. Did you set up the cameras?"

"I could barely get the package. Ms. Turner has some well-armed friends or a friend _with _well-armed friends scooping the building."

"And you still got the item? The Ice Man is losing his touch. Oh well, I guess I will have to use my imagination."

O-o-O-o-O-o-O

"Rhys, I'm back!" Susan called as she entered the flat. She saw the cart still in the hallway, the lazy bum.

"Hello, deary!" Mrs. Hudson said as she came down the stairs from Sherlock and John's flat. "The boys are back."

"Evenin', Mrs. H. Is Rhys up there with them?"

"I didn't see him, though I only went in the kitchen. Sherlock has another head in the bloody fridge!"

"Really?! Wicked." Susan made her way past the irritated landlady after they bid their good nights.

Susan tapped on the door and John answered. "Hello, Susan. What brings you to the insane asylum?"

"Keeping Up Appearances. Don't have a telly yet," Susan smiled at the handsome man, not her type but still quite the looker.

"You are more than welcome to use ours whenever you want. However, you just missed Sherlock solving the shoe case. Poison, he says," John informs her. It mostly goes over her head since she missed most of the supposed case and frankly, she didn't much care. She and John made their way to the telly set. John leaves her a moment, to return with two cups of tea.

"So is Rhys in there with Sherlock?" Susan questions, after taking tea nodding her head in thanks. "He probably hasn't left Sherlock's side. He loves detective stories. He won't pass up the chance to help solve a case for the world," Susan laughs.

"I haven't seen Rhys here since we got back. I thought he was you," John casually tells Susan. Susan's teacup shatters on the floor.

"What?"

"Susan are you okay?"

Susan ran to the kitchen. "Sherlock!"

Sherlock lifted his head and glared at the bothersome woman. But when he really looked at her, he was confused. She looked absolutely frightened, however she paid little attention her surroundings. She was not worried about her being but for something or someone else.

"Please, for the love of God, tell you have seen Rhys!"

"No." So, her son was missing.

Susan eyes welled up with tears. Her hands balled up into fists and she let out on ear-piercing scream over and over again. She looked up to the ceiling.

"I know you have this apartment bugged! Get here now! I don't fucking if it starts a bloody war. GET. HERE. NOW!" She shrieked.

Sherlock and John could only stare at the frantic woman. Mrs. Hudson was in the kitchen trying to make tea with shaky hands, she had come to investigate the scream and she was met with a very much-unbalanced woman. After ten minutes, Mycroft Holmes burst into the room.

"Your flash drive can wait!" Sherlock said as faced his brother. Mycroft pushed passed him and gathered Susan into his arms. Susan buried her face into his chest, while gripping onto his expensive suit for dear life.

"You were right," Susan wept. "The bad man took him. He took Rhys." Mycroft's face fell, he wasn't found of the child but he did love him as a nephew in his own way.

"Your black market employer?" Mycroft asked calmly. He would not lecture her now and he damn sure would not imply a 'told you so'.

"Yes."

"Susan, I need a name."

"Moriarty."

Mycroft gasped, as did Sherlock. Sherlock did not much about the man yet, but Mycroft was familiar with the 'Consulting Criminal'.

"Susan, I knew you were involved in criminal dealings, but you are in over your fucking head! Moriarty?! How could you be so stupid."

Susan pushed away from Mycroft and in an instant she was on her feet. "You dare lecture at a fucking moment like this! Rhys is missing, Mycroft! MISSING!" Susan ran from the room. The group, minus Mrs. Hudson, ran after her. They followed her to her flat. The watched as Susan pulled a black duffle bag from the closet.

Susan pulled off her dress and tossed it at Mycroft feet. She unzipped the bag, pulled out, and put on cameo army pants, a black turtleneck, and black combat boots. She strapped a knife to her calf under her pants, a hatchet with a blood stained handle on her right hip and a .50 Desert Eagle on her left. The pockets on her thighs were filled clips and shells. She strapped her shotgun on her shoulder harness. She pulled out a leather jacket to cover the gun. The last weapon she pulled out was a hard canvas holder that held her baseball bat, hiding in from view.

Susan looked at herself in the mirror; she saw a reflection she had not seen in years. "Welcome back," she said to the reflection who gave her a sinister grin.

Mycroft, Sherlock, and John no longer recognized the woman in front of them. Susan made her way to push past them. Mycroft grabbed her arm.

Susan glanced at his hand and gave him a warning look, "Do not restrain me, Holmes. If you are not with me, you are against me," Susan said putting her hand on her hatchet. John wished he had his pistol, he knew one wrong word and the conversation would end in a bloodbath for all of them.

Mycroft immediately released her, "I am always on your side. But be rational, you cannot run around London heavily armed busting down doors looking for him."

"I would see London burn with its entire population if that is what it takes to find my son," Susan said as she walked out the door.

**A/N: I know it is super short, but I really wanted to get this chapter out to you. What did you think? This is a very different Susan then you are used to. You will start to learn more about Susan's background and what she is capable of. PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW. They are love and they really make these chapters come out faster. Ta-ta! -Macbeth**


	5. The Bitch is Back

**A/N: I had so much fun writing this chapter! Susan is just so entertaining to write. Just to let my readers know I **_**am **_**taking ideas. Just throw one out there and you might see it in the next chapter :D P.S. I was watching Snatch while writing most of this chapter, so if you have seen the movie, you will notice that I worked in some scenes (my personal favorites) and if you have not seen the movie… why the fuck not?! Kidding, kidding lmao**

**I would also like to make a special shout out to my lovely reviewers: Lyricalwishes, Watergoddesskasey, and FreeSpiritSeeker! Thank you soooooooo much for your lovely reviews. A review a day, keeps the writer's block away :D Also I want to thank all the ones who alerted and fav'ed the story.**

**DISCLAIMER: See chapter 1 or 2. 'Snatch' belongs to Guy Ritchie (You wonderful writer you!) **

The Woman in 221C

Chapter 5: The Bitch is Back

_This chapter is dedicated to Shelby (Oni-panda379)_

_Thank you, for the inspiration!_

Jim and Sebastian opened the trunk, revealing the package of interest; bound and gagged.

"Time to get out," Jim said jauntily.

Sebastian lifted the boy and tossed him up on his shoulder. Rhys came face to face with Jim. Jim gave the young lad a menacing chuckle. Rhys rolled his eyes.

"So, would you like to know who I am?" Rhys gave a mumbled response. Jim ripped off the gag and Rhys flexed his sore jaw. "In the words of the Virgin Mary, come again?"

"I know who you are."

"Yeah, I bet your lovely mummy told you all about mean old Moriarty,"

"Not a word," Rhys commented. "I saw in the surgery."

"Good. Good! Maybe there is hope for you yet. Bas, let's take our guest inside."

O-o-O-o-O-o-O

Susan leaned against the bricks in a back alleyway. She had just sent texts, to a vary of people of importance, asking for favors long overdue when she heard the sounds of drunken laughter headed her way.

"Look what we have here boys. A pretty mouse that has lost her way," said the drunken man circling her. The smell of whiskey and bourbon heavy on the men's breathe as they tittered. "Maybe we should help her out. I'll go first," said the man in front of the wasted party.

"Why you, Mark?" Said the weighty one of the group.

"Cause, I said so. That's why," Mark growled and hefty man flinched. "And don't say our names, you fucking twat!"

"Ahh fuck off. I haven't time for you wankers," said Susan.

Mark fumbled a bit as if he was trying to remember something. He stilled, and then pulled out a gun from the back of his trousers.

"I don't want a fuss and I don't want to put a bullet in your brain. But if you don't give us what we want there will be fucking murders," stated Mark putting the gun in Susan face.

Susan glanced at the gun, smirked, and then regarded the two men standing behind the armed man.

"What's your name?" Susan asked the one who had yet to pipe up.

"Shoot her," He said to Mark, trying to pull a poorly thought out scare tactic.

"What?" Mark questioned. Mark went to hit her with the gun, but Susan grabbed his arm mid swing, holding it there despite Mark's struggles to get it free. The man who said 'shoot her', stepped forward, pulling out his own 'gun'.

"Let. Go. Of. The. Gun."

Susan let go of Mark's arm and he stumbled back behind the man who stepped forward.

"So, you're obviously the big dick and that, on either side of you, are your balls. There are two types of balls: There are big brave balls, and there are little mincy faggot balls," Susan said staring at three men.a

"These are your last words so make'em a prayer," said big dick, still on the scare tactic. He wanted Susan a whimpering mess.

"Dicks have drive and clarity of vision… but they're not clever. They smell pussy and they want a piece of the action. And you thought you smelled some good old pussy and have brought you two little faggot balls along for a good ol' time. But you've got your parties muddled up. Theres' no willing pussy here just a dose that'll make you wish you were born a woman."

Big dick, Mark, and hefty glanced at each other nervously. But Big dick and Mark gripped their guns tighter trying to hide their uncertainty.

"Like a prick you're having second thoughts," Susan continued. "You're shrinking. And your two little balls are shrinking with you. The fact that you've got 'Replica' written on the side on your gun," Susan stated as she pulled out her gun, "…and the fact that I've got 'Desert Eagle .50' written on the side of mine," Big dick and Mark looked at her gun with an 'Oh shite' face, "should precipitate your balls into shrinking, along with your presence. Now… fuck off."

The three men backed away slowly and when they were at the mouth of the alley, they ran off. As soon as they were gone, Susan felt a pair of arms roughly squeeze her middle and the stranger knocked the gun from her hand.

"Finally, we are alone," said the vile stranger. He bit her ear drawing blood and cupped her breast. Susan rammed her heel down on top on the man's foot, easily breaking the fragile bone. The man hollered in pain and she punched him the throat.

"Shhh," Susan commanded pressing her finger to his lips. "Be quiet and you can crawl away still breathing. I have a new DI friend I don't want to piss off."

The man dived for the gun and before he could point it at her, it fell from his grip as he dropped dead. Susan had whipped out her hatchet and embedded it into his cranium. Susan pulled out the bloody ax, wiping the blood off on his shirt.

"You really should have listened," she chastised the corpse. She retrieved her gun, and left the alley. She walked past a CCTV camera and noticed it followed her movement.

"There is a stiff in the alley, be a doll and dispose of it. I don't want to upset Greg," Susan said to the camera. She bent down and picked a rock. "And yes the bitch is back," Susan tossed the rock at the camera, breaking it. She knew the camera was only one of many, but Mycroft would get the message. Leave her alone or be less blatant about it.

O-o-O-o-O-o-O

_Boss, we got a problem- SM_

_No, we don't have a problem. You have a problem. Fix it! Or I WILL be your problem. Understood? JM_

_Yeah, got it, Boss. But, the kid's gone. SM_

_WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE KID IS GONE?! KIDS DO NOT JUST DISSAPEAR FROM SOLATARY CONFINMENT LOCKDOWN, SEBASTIAN! JM_

_This one apparently does, Sir. SM_

Jim knew that Sebastian was probably rallying his troops now to please his angered boss, by finding the tricky child. When in reality, Jim was unequivocally thrilled. This kid was fun! Jim clapped his hands together, because the amusement had only just begun.

O-o-O-o- **Across the Pond**-o-O-o-O

Melissa read the text and set down her cell. Melissa Turner is quite the complex personality. After her parents divorced, her being eleven and Susan only being four, she went to live with her father in the U.S. or more specific, New York.

Even at thirty-six, Melissa Turner is a well-known name in the inner workings of politics. Most of the public has never heard of her and the ones who have easily look over her, labeling her a minor. However, Susan and she know better. Melissa Turner _was _the American Government. Unlike Mr. Holmes, she did not deny it.

"My nephew has gone missing and we are going to go get him back," Susan said to her bodyguard and personal assistant, in a flawless American accent. Susan had gone through years of self-speech therapy to rid her of all her roots, excluding Susan.

"Where?" asked her bodyguard, Buddy.

"London."

"London?" asked her p.a., surprised.

"London."

"London?" her bodyguard asked making sure he heard right.

"Yes, London. You know; bad food, worse weather, Mary fucking Poppins. London!"

O-o-O-o-O-o-O

Jim walked into the kitchen at about three in the morning. Unlike Sherlock, Jim liked sleep because he saw the necessity of it. However tonight it eluded him, just like the boy who was disappeared from his confinement. As the hours slip past without even a trace of his whereabouts, he had become less fun and more frustrating.

Jim grabbed the box of coco pebbles from his secret cubby. He couldn't have Sebastian finding his top-secret stash. He poured himself a bowl, added a little milk, and turned on the lights to find a spoon. When he turned around he nearly leapt out of his skin. Rhys was sitting at the island, eating his coco pebbles. So much for top-secret stash.

"So you finally decided to come out of hiding? Where were you, anyways?"

"The air vent." Rhys and Jim stared at each.

"So this must be what a TV dinner feels like," they said at the same time. Jim's head fell back and he laughed. A _real_ laugh.

"I can't tell if you are really tired or if this is the true face of the infamous Moriarty," perceived Rhys.

"I will leave you to your own observations. But do keep them to yourself. Can't have anyone thinking I have possibly gone soft. Reputations; a life time to build, seconds to destroy," Jim winked at the lad. "So how do you think your mummy is taking all of this?"

Rhys's shoulders fell and a miserable look took over his features, "Horribly."

"Horribly, indeed. And she is getting started." commented Jim. "How well do you know your mummy? I know you know some of my secrets. I find myself actually impressed that you were able to hack some of my files from my personal computer via Sebastian phone you pickpocketed," Jim smirked. "But do you know about your mummy's dirty little secrets?"

Rhys gave him a quizzical expression. Jim reached for the sugary cereal.

"Better refill these. It's a long story."

**A/N: Well, mein lieblings I am off to bed. I managed to really push through my homework so I could get this chapter to you. So, please show me your thanks by pressing that lovely review button. ;D**


	6. Let the End Begin

**DISCLAIMER: Nope, still don't own it. I have the absolutely best imaginary lawyers fighting my fictional lawsuit and I am STILL losing. **

**A/N: Sorry sorry sorry sorry! I am so sorry for the wait! Finals kept me REALLY busy. But alas I am still alive and have written another chapter for you to enjoy. My longest yet! A treat for your wait! I hope you like it. Also a reminder, if you have an idea I am taking them. :D On a side note, I have started watching Merlin! It is amazing. I now ship Merther. Mwahahaha I will go down with this ship like Titanic. Well, I have kept you long enough. Let the reading commence!**

The Woman in 221C

Chapter 6: Let the End Begin

O-o-O-o-Two Weeks Later-o-O-o-O

"Sherlock, for the love of God, stop pouting!"

"Two weeks, John. Two weeks! He starts a game he doesn't finish!"

"You got to be joking! Rhys is still missing, Susan and her sister are tearing London looking for him, Lestrade is going crazy with the rise of dead bodies most likely caused by Susan, Mycroft is at his wits end, we SHOULD be helping them, and you are bloody pouting."

"Hmmph!" Sherlock turned his body away from his flat mate. "He is playing a game with her. Why?"

"Maybe it is because she has nunga nungas," John said and Sherlock face filled with disgust at the sexual reference. "You could be out there 'playing' his game if you would help Susan."

"I want nothing to do with that infuriating woman."

"Fine, then sulk here alone. I am going to find that so called infuriating woman to help her find her son," John said storming out the flat.

O-o-O-o-O-o-O

"Check mate, Bastian."

Sebastian tried to glare at the smug little boy, but he couldn't. The brat had grown on him. He could not get mad at the tyke even after he had his ass handed to him nine times in a row at chess.

It took a while, but Rhys got to where he stopped hiding and openly moved throughout the pent house flat. He had even stopped trying to escape, not that he could. He may be able to hide, but he couldn't escape. But the most curious thing was he had his phone but he made no attempt to contact his mother.

Jim chuckled from the other side of the room. "You laugh a lot," Rhys said. "My mummy likes to laugh to."

"No, your mummy didn't laugh. She was the girl who didn't laugh," Jim said just above a whisper still staring at the screen. After five minutes, Sebastian couldn't take it anymore.

"Oh, you cannot just drop a mind fuck bomb like that and not elaborate!"

"I do what I want and besides I already told you the story, you have simply not yet made the connection." Sebastian grunted and crossed his arms, he absolutely loathed it when Jim spoke in riddles.

"Tell me what you know and help you figure it, Bassy," Rhys tried.

"Tell him nothing."

Rhys leaned back crossing his arms and grunted. Jim observed the similar poses. The boy was spending too much time with Bastian, he thought chuckling.

O-o-O-o-O-o-O

Susan stood behind the thug with a bat to his head. The kid couldn't be any older then twenty-two and he was shaking like a leaf. She didn't want to kill the kid, just get some info. He had already watched the leader get a beat down.

Susan glanced at the still body of the gang leader. She has no problem beating his brain matter out on the concrete. Her eyes flicked back to the trembling form before her. Susan grunted, beckoning her sister to continue.

"What's your name, kid?"

"Simon, ma'am."

"Manners? Even when facing certain death? I like you, slick," Melissa scratched her chin. "So, Simon, I am going to ask you a question and you are going to answer it, unless you want to end up like brain dead Fred over there. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am!" The kid fervently shook his head in agreement.

"Good," Melissa drawled. "Where is Moriarty?"

O-o-O-o-O-o-O

Mycroft paced his office, downing his third glass of scotch. He picked up the photos sitting on his desk. Susan entering various buildings and exiting slightly ruffled with specks of blood on her. The last three included her sister. The one and only Melissa Turner. Said to be his alternate self. Which is an insult if someone ever asked his opinion. If he were a woman, he would not wear a bright blue pant suit. The horror!

He remembered when he first met Susan. He was having his first meeting with the fellow newcomer to the more exclusive side of government, Melissa Turner. She had brought along a punk, purple haired, twenty year old younger sister. He did not know what to think of the hyper woman.

O-o-O-o- 9 years ago -o-O-o-O

Susan repeatedly clicked the pen in her hand. She scowled at her sister for dragging her here. Damn Buddy! He had her bodyguard manhandle her into the car and her sister dragged her to a boring meeting.

"Stop it!" Melissa hissed.

Susan flipped her off, "Piss off," she muttered. She continued clicking her pen much to her sister's irritation. Susan quit clicking her pen when she saw a man enter the room.

Melissa sighed in relief. "Mr. Holmes, please ignore my sister during the meeting. She is just 'tagging' along. She can be quite the troublemaker when left unsupervised."

"No explanation needed. I completely understand," Mycroft said thinking of his own troublemaking little brother.

Susan observed the stranger. She observed his expensive pin stripped Armani suit. She also favored a man in Westwood, but you can't have it all. Susan reached across the table, offering her hand. When Mycroft took it, she gave it a hardy shake.

"Hi, I'm Susan!" she proudly exclaimed, almost yelling. "But I also go by Sexy Bitch. What's your name, Mr. Holmes." Susan grinned at the alarmed red head. Mycroft did not know what to think of the hyper woman.

"Mycroft," he answered.

"Susan, sit back down and shut it."

"No! Don't wanna."

"Quit making a scene. What the hell has gotten into you?" Melissa asked completely shocked.

"Oh, sissy, I could give you much more than a scene. I could put on a full fucking Broadway musical," Susan joked.

Mycroft watched as the two women bickered back and forth and he could not help but be reminded of his own strained relationship with his brother. Susan's eyes flickered back at Holmes. She climbed up on the table and laid down. She rolled over to Mycroft, stopping when she was right under him. Melissa almost fell out of her chair in astonishment.

"So, Myc, do ya have boyfriend?"

"Susan!"

"Sissy, I am just making polite conversation. Ya know? What you are always trying to get me to do," she said, waving Melissa off.

"Ummm…" Mycroft struggled for words. This was not the meeting he prepared for.

"Ahhh, you look so cute when you are embarrassed," Susan squealed. Susan jumped to her feet and dramatically pointed at Mycroft, "From now on you are my gay BFF!" Susan leaped off the table and ran out the room. She stuck her head back in for a moment, "By the way Melissa, how is the diet going?" Susan ducked, missing the teacup platter that shattered above her head. Susan howled with laughter as she ran down the hall. Mycroft and Melissa heard a faint yell from the corridor, "Elvis has left the building!"

Mycroft turned back towards Ms. Turner, "Is she also like that?"

For the first time in her life, Melissa was at a loss for words.

"Ms. Turner?"

Melissa took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes before putting them back on. "No, she is not. Mr. Holmes, that is the _first _time I have seen Susan smile since grade school."

O-o-O-o-O-o-O

Mycroft smiled fondly at the memory. He knew Susan was not necessarily mad at him, just upset about Rhys. Mycroft laid the photos back on his desk when he heard a soft tapping on his office door.

"Come in, Jane."

Anthea didn't even bother correct her boss as she clutched the file in her hands.

"Jane, what is wrong?"

"Sir," she started carefully, "there has been evidence that the Black Hand is back at work."

"Impossible."

"And I have identified the assassin, Sir," Anthea reluctantly handed the file in Mycroft's waiting hands. Anthea bit her lip nervously as she waited for him to open the folder.

"This is Susan."

"She… she is the Blank Hand. She has been spotted at all the murders. She is even wearing the glove. She has always worn the glove!" Anthea sobbed frantically.

Mycroft sat the folder on the desk and turned back towards his loyal personal assistant. He rested his hand on her shoulder, the other gently lifted her chin making her look at him. "Susan is not the Black Hand. The Black Hand is dead, I personally saw to that. Susan wears that glove because she marred her hand in grade school," Mycroft half lied. Anthea's shoulders visibly relaxed.

"I am sorry for inconveniencing you, Mr. Holmes. Also for suspecting Susie." Anthea gave a quick nod to her boss and left the room. Mycroft dialed Susan number on his private mobile.

O-o-O-o-O-o-O

Melissa sat on the somewhat cleanest spot of the bathroom. She listened to her sister yell at the small man in the corner of the room, while she picked at her manicured nails. Susan waved her knife in front of him, when LMFAO's 'Sexy and I Know It' filled the room. Melissa shook her head at her sister's choice of ringtones.

"Hello, limey redcoat."

"Hello, Melissa. Can you pass the phone to your sister, please?"

"No, can do." Melissa looked over her shoulder at her sister who was busying herself with bashing a man's face on a sink edge. "She's busy."

"It's important. Put her on."

"Pushy, pushy. Hey Susan, Sir Pompous Ass one line 1." Melissa heard Mycroft growl and she just laughed at his displeasure. Susan rinsed off her hands in the bloody sink and reached for the phone.

"Heeeeyyy, Bestie. How you doin'? …No need to yell. …Yeah, yeah. I will be more careful. …I have a solid lead on where his located. I will keep you posted. …The glove? What did you tell her? …Well people talk, Mycroft. They do little else. …Fine. I will keep the murders down to a minimum. Byes! …What? …When? In three hours? …Where? Why didn't you say that first?! …I hate texting. Melissa does nothing but text. I am on my way. …No. I have not changed the ringtone, nor will I. Sorry, have to go. I am busy ignoring your whining. Bye, Love!" Susan tossed the phone back into Melissa purse.

"You have pockets, use them," Melissa complained. Susan ignored her and busied herself with dragging the body in a nearby stall.

"So what now?" Melissa asked.

"We are going shopping! And you are going to buy me that Tulip Dress, Ms. Money Bags," Susan cheered as she ran out of the privy. "We have a pool party to dress up for!"

O-o-O-o-O-o-O

John walked back towards the flat. He had no luck in finding Susan or any trace of her. He couldn't visit her grandmother without worrying the poor woman or ask Lestrade without putting Susan and her sister at risk for imprisonment. John had broken down and visited Molly in the morgue. Molly had mentioned Susan several times, saying she met her and Rhys at the surgery. Sadly she had not seen Susan since she met her.

As John walked, he failed to notice the van that trailed behind him until it was too late. He failed to get a good look at his captor, a black cloth was pulled over his head and he was dragged into the van. Well, if this was it, at least he was wearing his best jumper.

O-o-O-o-O-o-O

Jim stood from the antique leather chair behind his desk and nodded to Sebastian. Rhys observed the exchange and presented his arms. Showing that he would not put up a struggle. Sebastian bind his arms and threw him over his shoulder. Rhys momentarily considered kneeing Bas in the throat and taking his gun from the back of the trousers, but decided against it. Rhys couldn't kill Sebastian after he has been so nice too him these past two weeks and he was a good man, well as much as good a murderous sniper can be. Jim Moriarty was… well he was Jim Moriarty. Rhys honestly had no idea what to think of him. One moment he was threatening him and shoving him into car trunks, like what he was about to do know, and other moments he was eating coco pebbles with him while swapping stories.

Jim actually looked conflicted when he shut the trunk on Rhys. 'What was going on in his head?' Rhys wondered. They had only drove a few blokes before the trunk was opened again and Jim personally picked him up and placed him the back seat of the car. Sebastian smiled as he watched the scene in the review mirror. _Maybe_ there was hope for his boss after all. Jim roughly put a bomb vest on the little boy. Well, Sebastian did stress the 'maybe' part.

O-o-O-o-O-o-O

Jim walked around the pool, waiting for the party guests to arrive. He stared at the pool. This is where it all began and it only seemed fitting that this where it should end. Him and the girl. If she could forget about him, he could forget about her.

_They have arrived. SM_

Jim brushed off invisible wrinkles of his best suit. How amazing life has been. Going from ratty clothes to Westwood. From being laughed at to being the world's Consulting Criminal! Jim pocketed his phone and left the poolroom. May the end begin.

O-o-O-o-O-o-O

John was pulled out of the van and pushed roughly onto his knees. The sack was pulled off his head, but it did little help for his vision, since the room was pitch black.

"Welcome, Mr. Watson," said someone in the room. It sounded like Bane from Batman. What the hell was going on?

"Is this really necessary?" Was that Mycroft?

"Stop, you are running my fun!" Susan? "Ignore that, Mr. Watson." Back to Bane.

"We should be at the pool!" Sherlock?!

"My God! You had one job and that was to keep your mouth shut, you prats! All I wanted was a proper kidnapping. You guys suck." Defiantly Susan.

"Lord all Mighty, you limey bastards need to calm down." American?

"Umm, Sherlock, you're growling…" Molly? "Susan, maybe we should turn on the lights?"

"Okay, doll face." The lights flickered on and after a few moments the spots in John's vision vanished. He looked around the room in disbelief.

"Why the hell did you put a sack on my head and drag me into a bloody van?!"

Susan fished around in her backpack and pulled out a piece of folded paper. Susan unfolded the paper and bent down next to John. "This is my '50 things to do before I turn thirty' list. You have helped me cross out number thirty-one," Susan said with a big grin dominating her features.

"Kidnapping me was on your list?!"

"Well, not you per se. Anyone would work, but you make such a lovely victim," Susan cooed. Susan cupped her hand over mouth. "Let the games begin!" she said mimicking Bane's voice once again. Sherlock and John exited the room first, Melissa and Mycroft following behind them. Molly paused and turned back towards Susan.

"Susan, what is wrong? You have been fidgeting since we came here."

"Never let anyone tell you do not see," Susan said resting her head on Molly's shoulder. "I know Rhys waits for me but I will face more than my son in that room. Did you know this where I went to grade school at? I was actually considered a prodigy here. I was only supposed to be in 1st grade but I managed to be bumped up 4th year. That pool is where I felt, spoke, and lost all at once. Molly, do you know what Clostridium Botulinum is?" Molly nodded her head.

"Figured you would. Bacteria that can cause paralysis and it is in Botox," Susan said peeling off her glove revealing a badly scarred hand. Molly gasped. "Do not worry, it no longer pains me. It happened a long time ago. My 4th year, to be exact. Sometimes people have an extreme reaction to it, like me."

"It is ironic that Clostridium Botulinum caused this. The case Sherlock solved about those sneakers had traces of it. John's blog mentioned that is what killed Carl Powers."

"Carl Powers?" Susan said eyes widening almost impossibly large. She knew the sneakers looked familiar, but she didn't allow herself to hope. "Did… did… Sherlock or John say who killed the boy?"

"Well, John mentioned a Moriarty. Susan, are you all right? You are very pale. Susan? Susan!" Molly called as Susan ran from the room towards the pool.

Susan didn't stopped even when she ran past Sherlock, John, Mycroft, and her sister. They called after her but she just kept on. Running the familiar path of her grade school, towards the pool. She burst through the door and Jim was waiting for her.

**A/N: Well, I am off to bed. I apologize for any mistakes I have made, this story is unbetaed? That is a word, right? Next chapter will be filled with more flashbacks about Susan past. Ciao for now! **


	7. Blast from the Past

**A/N: Sooooooooooo sorry for the wait! Sorry sorry sorry sorry! Blame Skyrim: Dragonborn! It was all the games fault. Stupid wonderful game! It is a love hate relationship. Also it did not help that this chapter was a total pain in the ass. I am still not happy with it. Please tell me what you think or how I can make it better **

**ALSO, I HAVE PUT UP LINKS ON MEIN PROFILE OF HOW I SEE MY OC CHARACTERS. JUST SO YOU KNOW :) **

The Woman in 221C

Chapter 7: Blast from the Past

O-o-O-o- _FLASHBACK _-o-O-o-O

_Susan gripped the straps of her Star Wars backpack as she glanced up at the steps of her new school. This is where she will be starting her fourth year at only the age six. She couldn't believe this was happening, it seemed like a dream to the starry eyed, pig-tailed girl._

_Susan took a deep breath and trekked up the stairs to her new life. This school was going to be different. This school was going to be special. No one will ridicule her here. This school prided itself on a no tolerance bully policy. Susan stood in front of the double doors._

"_Yup, this is going to be brilliant!" The words had just slipped past Susan lips when the doors burst open and a boy was pushed out on her. Causing both of them to tumbled to the ground._

"_No one wants you here, freak!" She heard someone say, followed by different sets of laughter, then the doors slammed shut._

_She heard the boy on top of her groan and say what Momma would call a 'no-no' word. The boy pushed off of her and stood up, but he didn't offer Susan a hand up. But she did not think anything of it, she just stood up as well and brushed the dirt off her powder blue dress her Momma made for her. _

_She made her way towards the entrance, expecting the boy to do the same. However, he was making his way towards the side of the school. She glanced at the door then at the boy, weighed the options, and then decided. She skipped behind the boy, who instantly turned towards her. _

"_What do you think you are doing?" The boy growled at her._

"_Following you."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because I want too," Susan said smiling._

"_Why?" The boy repeated, glaring at her._

_Susan tried to pull a serious face, but failed horribly, "Because I want too," she repeated, trying to mimic the boy's accent._

"_Go away," he said simply, turning away from Susan and continuing to the back entrance. _

_Susan rolled her eyes, gripped her shoulder straps and skipped after him. She watched as his clenched and unclenched, also his walking became more similar to stomping. _

"_My name is Susan."_

"…"

"_What is your name?"_

"…"

"_If you don't tell, I will have to make up one for you."_

"…"

"_Irish!"_

"_What?"_

"_That is the name I have decided to give you!"_

_O-o-O-o-O-o-O_

_Susan had been at her school for three weeks now. She sat on the bench waiting for her 'friend' to pass so she could walk with him. She noticed that he walked this way when her momma drove her too school. It took some serious begging but her mother finally allowed her to walk to school. Irish was more than livid when he found out that he would have to deal with pigtails before school as well as during. But after a week of following him to school he gave up on trying to get her to stop._

_Susan waited until she realized he was late. Irish was never late! He walked by here the same time every day. Susan tapped her foot and started looking around for something to do. She noticed a sturdy looking tree branch that loomed right over the sidewalk. She chuckled darky to herself and climbed the tree._

_Ten minutes later, she saw Irish coming her way. He paused right under her position and glanced at the bench with a curious look that almost resembled disappointment. Above him, Susan hooked her legs on the tree branch and swung down. Her forehead came within inches of smacking Irish's brow._

"_You're late," Susan pouted._

_Irish just blankly stared at here, but she noticed his shoulders had relaxed due to her presence. He turned and continued walking._

"_Hey, wait up. I got you a gift!" Susan swung back up and hopped down from the branch. When she turned back around, she giggled. Irish was looking at her with mouth slightly agape. Susan slipped off her backpack and pulled out a colorful scarf. She walked up to Irish and wrapped it around his neck. _

"_It is a copy of Doctor Who's scarf. I made it myself," Susan declared with pride, "It is starting to get cold out and I noticed you don't have a scarf."_

"_I don't need your gift," he growled as he turned from her, heading off to school. But she noticed that he made no attempt to take it off. _

_O-o-O-o-O-o-O_

"_Awww, look freak's got a new scarf. Did your girlfriend get it for ya?" This was the first thing the duo heard when they stepped into the school's commons. Irish opened his mouth to retort, but Susan beat him to it. She pushed herself through two students to get to Irish before he said something. _

"_Oi, arse face!" she yelled, getting Carl Powers' attention. Though she knew if her momma was here, she would have a heart attack. "Yeah, his girlfriend made it. And that's ME! Unlike a minger like you, he is fit," Susan finished crossing her arms over her chest smirking in self-satisfaction. Powers stomped over to Susan and glowered down at her._

"_Listen here little freak, I don't care if you are a so called genius and the teachers fawn all over you, I have no problems hitting a little girl!"_

"_Neither do I," she said matching his glare with one of her own. Her eyes briefly flickered to the left, then back to Carl. She gave him a big toothy grinned, that confused him, before she began whimpering that quickly turned into full out wailing like she just been told Santa isn't real, have her puppy run away, and her balloon popped all at the same time. Carl had no idea what was going on till he heard it._

"_Mr. Powers, my office! NOW!"_

_Susan smirked as she saw the furious teacher and scared Powers disappear into a room. She turned back to where Irish was, but he wasn't there. She saw him stomping off down the hall way, vanishing outside. She ran after him. When she caught up to him, she was knocked to the ground by a hard slap to the face. Susan cradled her inflamed cheek and glanced up at an exceptionally enraged Irish._

"_You are not my girlfriend!"_

"_I was only trying to help," she stammered._

"_I don't want your help. I don't want anything from you." He removed the scarf from his neck and through it down at her feet. "I. HATE. YOU!"_

_Susan watched as he ran away her with tear filled eyes "I like you," she whispered to his retreating form, knowing he couldn't hear her. Little did the little girl know that it would be months before he would talk to her and when he did, it would be 22 years before she saw him again._

_O-o-O-o-O-o-O_

_Susan found Irish sitting in the rafters, above the pool. She didn't notice the trainers tucked beside him. She stood there looked down at him before taking a seat next him._

"_They have all left," she said gesturing to the empty room below. After little Carl Powers was pronounced dead people had seemed to have made themselves scarce. The Powers Family had left with the dead boy in a weeping mess, while others went home still shaken up over the experience of seeing a little boy die. "It was murder, though I don't how. However, I do know the why and the who. It was you, Irish."_

"_You think? Come to tell me you are turning me in?"_

"_No, I would never to do that," she stated calmly._

"_Why must you think yourself my friend?!" He stood and pulled Susan up to face him, to only slap her, knocking her back down. But something entered her eyes despite his hatred._

"_I love you."_

"_What?" he yelled. "You are seven!"_

"_I love you," Susan repeated. The love never leaving her eyes._

"_I hate you!" he screamed kicking her into the stomach. "Why are you always there, no matter what I do?!"_

"_I love you," she said in answer._

"_I hate you!" kick. "I hate you!" kick. "I HATE YOU!" kick. Irish grabbed the trainers and ran from the room. Blood spattered out of her mouth as she watched him run from her once more._

_O-o-O-o-O-o-O_

_Susan was found the next morning, bruised and beaten, by a very worried custodian. She was whisked away to the hospital, where a very worried mother and nosy cops questioned her. She just gave them blank stares, never saying a word._

_Her mother refused to allow her to return to school even though she begged to go back. Back to her Irish, despite what he did. By next year, she found herself in an all-girl academy in France, where she fell into the wrong crowds and skived classes. Eventually she stopped going all together by 15. She tried finding her beloved, but he also seemed to vanish. Which was easy since she never learned his name._

_In the underworld of crime, she became a drug-induced force. Cold hearted and relentless. It wouldn't be until Mycroft before she would smile again, until Rhys before she would love again, and until 29 before she would be fully complete again. _

O-o-O-o-O-o-O

Jim and Susan stared at each other before the silence was broken with a loud squeal. Susan threw her hands up in the air and ran towards him. When she reached him she threw herself onto him, knocking them both into the pool. When they came up for air, Susan arms were around his neck and she was talking a mile a minute.

"Irish! Irish, it is really you! I thought it was you in the surgery, but I didn't dare to hope! I am soooo happy to see you! How have you been?! Why didn't you tell me it was you?!"

This was defiantly not the reaction he expected from her. He suspected her to cry or maybe even angry. However it was like they were in grade school again. Where she was desperately in love with him and he could do no wrong. Maybe this woman _was _as unhinged as he was.

What surprised him the most was not when Susan kissed him square on the mouth, but when he kissed her back. His treacherous body pulled the woman closer with one hand while the other weaved into her blond locks.

Susan pulled back for some much needed air. Her right hand made its way down south and pinched the criminal mastermind's arse. Said mastermind let out a yelp.

"What was that for?"

"Just making sure you were real," she said with a wink. "This kinda reminds me of when we first met, ya know the falling part, but wetter."

"Really? Oh, you mean then water."

"Pervert," she said smiling. "I love you!" she said all of a sudden. "I wanted to say it again, just in case you forgot. I _has _been 29 years. You don't have to say it back. Wouldn't believe you if ya did. I am just happy you kissed me, instead of telling you hate me, kicking me into submission, and running away. Don't ya dare look guilty! Doesn't suit ya."

"Aren't you worried about Rhys?"

"Nope," she said popping the 'p', before pecking him on the lips.

"No?" he said nipping her bottom lip.

"Nope. I knew where he was the first day. He called. But he said I had to go through with it if he hadn't called or you would know. I didn't know who you were, but he apparently he did."

"Can only suspect the best when he came from me and raised by you."

"So you know?"

"Sweet heart, I know everything."

"Pssh, whatever," Susan said chuckling. "You don't what I look like naked."

"Sweet heart, I _know_ everything."

"Stalker. But at least I now know why you sent me on that assignment. You said kill both of them."

"But you didn't and I knew you wouldn't. I knew he would remind you too much of me."

"Well, he _is _your son. Why did you sleep with that sleazy slag anyways?"

"She reminded me of you." Susan glared and raised her hand to him. "Kidding, kidding."

"You better be! Eww… just eww."

"Moments weakness."

"Your forgiven!" Susan said before kissing him.

"Oh grody!" "What the hell?!" "Wha…" _thump. _"Jim?" "Awkward…" "…" "Knew it!" They heard all at the same time. Jim and Susan glanced around the room.

"It seems that we had gained an audience," Susan said smirking.

"Shall we give them a show, darling?"

"I said it before and I will say it again. Pervert."

**A/N: So how was it? I had a lot of trouble with this chapter. Good news we are finally away from the angst... for now! 'cue dramatic music' mwahahaha So what did you think? Did you love it or hate it? Please, let me know! I love hearing from readers. Let me know what you would like to happen, any mistakes I made, or just what you thought of it. Till next till -Macbeth**


	8. Women

**A/N: I am not dead. :D Yay, for living! I have just been really busy. College, I might be taking back up my old job and I started another fiction. Lol Well I would like to give a special shout out to my reviewers and to the ones who are now following and favorite this fic. Also to the ones who are giving it chance and just reading it. Thank you!**

The Woman in 221C

Chapter 8: Women…

_This chapter is dedicated to the utterly barmy but completely brilliant, Frostivy. Thank you for the best review I have ever received!_

"And that is how I damaged my hand," Susan stated proudly.

"Wow… That was really brave," said John in complete awe.

Jim and Rhys paused and looked up from their phones. "Liar." They declared at the same time. They shared a smirk and continued their phone activities. Jim was probably sending out schematics for world domination while Rhys was most liking playing Angry Birds. Susan stuck out her tongue at them, but they pretended not to see. However, she did notice the slight twitch at the corner of her boyfriend's mouth.

Boyfriend… now that was a word she thought she would never be able to describe Irish as. Ever since to pool incident, three weeks ago, he has been quite the contrary from the Irish she knew 23 years ago. Not that she was complaining, she loved it in fact, it was just different. He had taken her out on three dates so far and he went all out on them. One of the dates was going to a theme park, which they took Rhys, and even Sebastian tagged along. However the date became more like bonding time for Rhys and Jim, while Susan and Seb hung back watching them have fun. She learned that both of them had a weakness for theme parks. She watched as they laugh and carry on while playing on bumper cars or cutting in line while pick pocketing people who annoyed them. Like father, like son.

Jim pocketed his phone and clapped his hands together, drawing the occupants of the room's attention. "Well as completely dull as this has been, I must take my leave. Places to blow up and people to kill," He said cheerfully before walking towards the door.

"Irish…" Susan warned.

"If I must," Jim walked back toward Rhys and patted his head before giving Susan quick pecks on the lips in repeated session. Hey waved to John, who nervously waved back.

His hand was on the door ready to open it and leave, but he couldn't resist it. Especially since Sherlock was out of site. He turned the heat up on one of Sherlock's experiments successfully sabotaging the results. Jim finally left the flat humming to himself.

John looked at Rhys and Susan who were still positively beaming from the psychopath's attention. John didn't really much care for the man, but he made Susan and Rhys happy so he really couldn't say much. However if he so much as threatens either one, Moriarty would find himself standing at the wrong end of his gun, criminal mastermind or not. Susan had become similar to a sister to him, a sober one, and Rhys became like a nephew and he be damned before he'd let anything happen to them.

"Oh, shite!" Susan said when she looked down at her watch. "I told Molls I would we meet up at her place 20 minutes ago. Damn, damn, damn it."

"You are going to see Molly?" Sherlock said entering the flat.

"Yea, why do _you_ care?"

"No… reason."

Susan smirked at the detective. Her inner self was doing a little dance. Her plan was totally working! She had only been working with Molly for a week and results were flowing quite nicely. She opened the door blowing her son a kiss, before closing it. As she made her way her way down the stairs she heard Sherlock yell. She put a pep in her step and hurried out of the building before Sherlock could catch up to her.

-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-

"Molly, it is all in the confidence. Let's face it, you become a blubbering fool every time Sherlock is around. Don't give me that look. We both know it is true."

"I can't help it," Molly said in defeat, plopping herself on the sofa.

"No, no, none of that, missy! You were doing so well last time."

"I just walked out of the room when Sherlock entered."

"Exactly! You knew you were not ready for him so you left. Let me tell ya he is already seein' you in a different light."

"Really?" Molly whispered, her eyes twinkling with hope.

"Yup! Back at his flat when I said I was headed here he became flustered and asked why I was going to see ya." A huge grin took over Molly's face and Susan couldn't help but smile back at it. "Okay, enough of this mushy feeling stuff. Back to work!"

"Yes, mam'!" Molly shouted, saluting Susan.

"Okay what are we going to do next time Sherlock asks you to something?"

"Do it?"

"NEIN!"

"Don't do it?"

"NEIN!"

"What do you want me to do?!" Molly yelled exasperated.

"To not look to me for your answers."

"But isn't that what this training is about? To tell me what to say and how to act around him."

"I am training you to be more confident in yourself. If I tell you what to say and how to act I would make you like myself and trust when I say this, Sherlock loaths the very ground I walk on," chuckled Susan. "I don't care what you answer is or what you do when you see him, just be sure and firm in whatever you decide. However I do recommend not giving in next time Sherlock asks for something, make him work for it."

"I don't know if I can do that. Sherlock relies heavily on me for his experiments."

"EXACTLY!" Susan exclaimed loudly, making the meek woman jump in surprise. "Molly, my dear, you have finally realized your ultimate weapon."

"My ultimate weapon?"

"Molls, you are a very bright girl. Don't play dumb, it doesn't suit you."

"I still don't understand."

"Okay then. Let me explain it like this. Who runs the lab at the hospital?"

"I and a couple oth…"

"Irrelevant. Who is the senior member of the morgue?"

"I am since Bob died."

"If Sherlock wants to see a body, who controls whether or not he gets too?"

"He usually asks me, but he could've asked…"

"Once again, irrelevant…You and I both know Sherlock only gets away with his shit _because_ he asks you. Any other pathologist or worker for the surgery would have told him to fuck off."

"So what are you getting at?"

"Sweet heart, don't you see? This is a simply a supply and demand situation. You have the supply he has the demand, you can't set any price that he has to pay. Molls in a room full of locked doors the one with the key is king. When you are in the surgery you are the one wearing the crown," Susan finished with a big grin and two thumbs up.

"Oo…oooo! I see now." Susan watched as a slow but determined form on Molly's face. The longer it was there, the creepier it became. She would have felt bad for creating a monster a sicking it on Sherlock, but then she would have been lying to herself.

"And my work here is done," she exclaimed clapping her hands at her marvelous work. "Well I will leave you to you planning." She gave Molly a kiss on the cheek and scratched Toby's head, which turned him into an instant purring motor boat.

"So how are things with Jim?"

"Good." Susan had avoided Molly after the pool scene, not sure how she would take her dating Moriarty. When she ran into Molly at Starbucks she just stood there, like a deer caught in the headlights, staring at the pathologist. Molly had simply said, 'So I guess this means you two are not cousins?' before smiling.

"Susan…"

"Ughh… You and your sixth sense," Susan whined as she turned back to her friend. She sprawled herself out on Molly's couch, lying next to Toby. "I don't know Molls. Everything _is _great, but lately he has a new client and he has been spending less and less time with me. He told me he had to finish a game. I know it involves Sherlock. I not asking him to give up his psychopathic ways, I just want him to include me. Ya know?"

"No, not really. I only knew Jim from IT, not Criminal Mastermind James Moriarty. However, I do remember him muttering something about a woman when we were on our second date. Maybe that was his client?"

"Did he say a name?"

"No, he just muttered The Woman. He said it like it was her name. Silly, I know. It is most likely nothing. Susie? Are you all right? Susan?" _SLAM! _Molly stared at her door, where Susan charged out, in confused shock.

-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-

Jim heard a commotion outside of his office. He heard Sebastian hit the wall with a grunt.

"Good Heavens, Jim. It sounds like a zoo out there. What delightful secrets have you been keeping from me?" The woman across from him purred. They both turned towards the door when they heard a knock.

"Enter, Sebastian."

"Boss you have a guest that _demands _to see you," Sebastian said gesturing to Susan. Susan was hanging onto Sebastian's back, with her bowie knife at his throat.

"Hello, darling."

"You!" Susan said, ignoring Jim. She pulled the knife from Seb's neck. She threw the knife but no knife bedded itself between Irene's eyes. Sebastian seeing what she was about to do plucked it from her grasp before she could toss it. Susan tried to climb off Sebastian so she could rush over to Irene so she could ring her neck. However, Seb just maneuvered her so she was trapped against his chest. Susan realized that when she tackled him before entering Jim's office, Sebastian was humoring her. There was absolutely no chance of breaking free from his iron grip.

"Let me at her!" Susan yelled, trying to bite Seb's hands and arms. Jim rose from his seat and sauntered his way over to Susan. Susan refused to look him in eyes, now realizing that her rash burst into his office has caused him a great deal of embarrassment and if there was anything Jim hated, it was being the butt of a joke. She had defiantly put herself between a rock and a hard place or an irritated psychopath and Sebastian's hard chest.

"Darling," Jim warned. He placed his index finger under her forcing her to look up, meeting his unnatural grin. "What do you think you are doing?"

"Umm… well I went over to Molly's and we talking about Sherlock, ya know? I am helping her get with him and then I was leaving and then I was talking about how you have become kinda distant. She has creepy sixth sense, by the way. I think she might be an alien or at least part alien. Never mind, doesn't matter. Back to you. You know I don't want you to quit your work, I would just like to help. Because I love you… and then Molly mentioned how when you guys were dating you muttered about a woman and then she said The Woman. I knew it was Irene. She has sex clients. Why are you doing business with her? You are not one of her clients? Please say no. Irish…? Are sleeping with her?! I swear I can be a better girlfriend! Is it because we haven't had sex? We could! You just never initiated anything further then kissing. I did give you a blow job! Was it bad? I can do better… I think. Practice! Yeah that's it! I promise I can learn to do better than leg spreader over there!"

"Are you calling me a whore?" Irene piped up with a raised eyebrow.

"Those are your words, not mine. I am just sayin' that if you went to a sperm clinic, your spit would be accepted," Susan retorted glaring at the woman she labeled as her competition.

"Well, my dear, I don't have to insult you. Your face speaks for itself," Irene said smirking.

"You have all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire," Susan said sticking her tongue out at the woman.

"You've got the brain of a four-year-old boy, and I bet he was glad to get rid of it," Irene said flipping her hair back.

"Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go," said Susan.

"I've had a perfectly wonderful evening. But this wasn't it," retorted Irene.

"It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt," said Susan struggling to lift hand to flip off the dominatrix.

"You are a peacock in everything but beauty," Irene said, also giving Susan the middle finger.

"Your mother should have thrown you away and kept the stork," Susan said indifferently.

Jim and Sebastian watched as the two women verbally lashed at each other. Using quotes by Mark Twain, Winston Churchill, Mae West, Oscar Wilde, and Groucho Marx against each other like weapons. He watched as a smile tugged at Susan's lip. She was enjoying herself immensely, but she did not want her about opponent to know. Jim felt a smile of his own tug at his lip. Though he did not love Susan and probably never would, did not mean she was not stunning and special in his eyes. He doubted that there would ever be a dull moment with her, so he wasn't planning on leaving her anytime soon. Also despite what she has convinced herself, the blow job she gave was defiantly noteworthy. Especially since, she was a virgin with no sexual experience. He felt oddly thrilled that she met no on that met her standards or were worthy of his replacement, even though they had met and parted at a young age. Furthermore, he treated her like absolute shite when they were children. Sudden laughter broke Jim from his thoughts.

"Oh, I like you. We should have dinner," Irene purred winking at Susan.

"You are not so bad yourself," Susan said winking back.

"She is taken," Jim warned Irene.

"Jim darling, it is only dinner."

"Nothing is just dinner with you Adler," he said. Sebastian released Susan and Jim put his arm around her waist and pulled her close.

"Well, well, well James Moriarty is jealous. Thought I would never see the day. Susan, you must be one hell of a woman. I bet you will be wild one in bed with a little training. I am more than willing to show you the ropes… preferably tied around your wrists, secured to my bedpost while you beg for release."

A possessive growl slipped past Jim's lips and it sent him reeling. He was jealous of _Irene_, of all people. What was Susan doing to him? Moreover, why did he not care?

**A/N: So how was it? I know it has been awhile since we last meet, but fear not! I promise to not give up on this story! *Sits majestically on a unicorn, on top of a grassy hill, while decked out in medieval armor pointing my claymore towards the horizon* Yes, I picture myself in male armor. I mean c'mon, theirs was much cooler then the dresses. Ruffled and uncomfortable. The fabric of Hell **


	9. Date Night

**A/N: I am finally back with another chapter. I personally like this chapter. It was fun to write. Hope you like it!**

The Woman in 221C

Chapter 9: Date Night

"Molly, did you have to invite them?"

"They kind of invited themselves," Molly said nervously glancing at other two occupants of the table who were grinning back at her in a way that was almost creepy.

-o-O-o- _Two hours earlier _-o-O-o-

Susan and Jim were curled up on the couch watching Law and Order. They were commenting of how the criminal could have gotten away with the crime if he did this or that or simply keep his mouth shut. Rhys was at the table watching Sebastian clean his sniper rifle. He asked what was what. Sebastian patiently explained each part of the gun in detail. The domestic atmosphere was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Come in!" Susan hollered, looking up from the T.V. set. Molly backed up into the tiny flat. She didn't notice the other lodgers in the room as she dug through the designer bags on the floor.

"You were so right, Susie! I decided to wing it and demand a dinner date for lab privileges and he said yes! I couldn't believe it. He just walked back out of the lab saying that he would pick me up at eight!"

"That is awesome, Molls. I knew ya had it in ya!"

"Yeah, I guess I did. I managed to get off work early so I spent the extra time shopping. I don't want to be over dressed but I also don't want to be too casual. I'm at quite the dilemma since I have not the faintest clue where we are going. Knowing Sherlock it can range from carry out Chinese food to a five star restaurant… Oh, hello," Molly said finally turning around.

"Hiiii!" Jim said enthusiastically to Molly. Sebastian just grunted and Rhys blushed and turned away. Susan ignored Molly's embarrassed state as she moved past her to dig through her clothing choice.

"No," Susan said as she threw one dress from the bag. "Nope. No, no. Most certainly not. Oh God, is that cat print? Molly, why? I am going to burn that later. No. Nope," Susan had finally reached the bottom of the bag and saw nothing she liked.

"That bad?" Molly asked looking at the brand new cloths strewn across Susan's flat. Molly's face turned bright red when she saw the matching cat print bra and underwear had somehow been directly thrown on Jim's lap. Jim picked up her knickers and winked at her.

"That bad," Susan stated bluntly and without mercy.

"What am I going to do then? It is already six."

"We are going to go back shopping," Susan said clapping her hands. "We are going to Alexander McQueen's! It is still early enough to get his winter collection. It is to die for, girl!" Molly's jaw dropped and to her it felt like it hit the floor.

"Mc…McQueens? I can't afford to even look at that store!"

"Well it is a good thing you're not paying!" Susan sang.

"I can't let you pay for that!" Molly protested.

"Pssh, I don't have that kind of money. We are using Jim's card and besides you are giving us something in return."

"She is?" Jim asked curiously.

"I am?" Molly asked apprehensively.

"Yes, you are. We are going to go on a double date!" Susan jumped on Jim, whispered in his ear and then wrestled out his wallet from his back pocket. As soon as she got it, she grabbed and ran out the apartment. "Hurry, Molly! We only have so much time." Jim watched them run out of the room. He smirked at Susan's whispered words, _'You will get your payment reward later'_. Knowing Susan it could be anything from sexual or playing video games and letting him discreetly win.

"Hey, Rhys wanna go watch Daddy blow up buildings for the next two hours?"

-o-O-o- _Alexander McQueen's _-o-O-o-

"Are you seeing these prices?!" Molly screeched walking into the upmarket boutique.

"If you don't look at them, you won't worry about them," Susan laughed. A skinny employee with a razor edge pixie cut walked up to them.

"Name?" the woman sneered eyeing the two women in front of her. Molly was wearing an orange jumper and tea stained jeans. Susan was wearing ripped jeans, a Green Day band tee, and dirty converses.

"Huh?" Susan asked confused.

"We take the names of all our customers, especially the _questionable _ones."

"Well how 'bout you shove your clipboard up your flat arse. Now, excuse me. I have some shopping to do. C'mon, Molls." The pixie scoffed and stormed off. "Geez, what a bitch. Oooo look at that dress!" Susan said running over to it. "Hey flat arse! We need these in a size six. And this one, oh and this one." Susan piled the bitchy worker up with dresses. The woman walked off to gather the requested items and put them in a dressing room.

"We can't use the same dressing room," Molly squeaked when Susan came in bringing her dresses.

"Why? You ain't got nothing I don't have. Now get your clothes off and those dresses on!"

'_You can dance! You can jiiive! Having the time the time of your life! Ohhh, see that girl, watch that seen! Dig it, the Dancing Queen!'_

"Hey, Sweetie!... Calm down, My. Just wear something simple… Simpler… Waaay simpler... You better watch your tone, Mister! …Better. Now, I suggest your cashmere sweater and Kakis… Yes, that simple… You will immediate Greg if you wear your normal suits… Okay where are you taking him?... That is way too posh! Mycroft, you have to keep it simple and that does not include the most exclusive restaurant in London… Think like him. Where would he take you if he was trying to impress you but in his budget?... Excellent choice! Tell me how it goes and I want all the details! Kiss, kiss."

"Mycroft has a date with Greg?"

"Yuppers! Thanks to my brilliant skills."

"So how does it look?" Molly asked showing off the elaborate dress.

"That's the one!" Susan squealed as spun a giggling Molly in a circle. "Now help me in this one. I have had my eye on this little number since it was shown on the walkway on the telly." After a little struggle with the laces on the corset of the dress, Susan was dressed. Susan and Molly stepped out of the dressing room to observe themselves on the platform mirror.

"You both look stunning in those dresses, though I am sure they would look better on my floor," a smooth voice said behind them.

"Irene!" Susan squealed in delight at the presence of her new friend. It had stunned Irene how Susan's hatred could change on a moment's notice. But, Irene learned when you gained her affection, she was loyal as the universe is infinite. Irene watched the hyper woman skipped over to her.

"What brings your sexy self here? Got a hot date?"

"Well, yes actually."

"Who?" Susan said bouncing.

"I will let you know if the date goes well," Irene said, smiling at Susan's childlike behavior.

"Ooooo, sounds serious," Susan teased.

"Well, she is quite the lady."

"If it goes well, we must do lunch together. Get that look off your face, missy. I am not participating in a threesome."

"Your no fun," Irene said pouting. "So are you going to introduce me to your beautiful friend?"

"Oh, shucks! Sorry 'bout that. Molly this is Irene. She talks big game but she doesn't bite."

"Unless you ask properly," Irene purred at a flushed Molly.

"Oh hush you," Susan jokingly chided Irene, who just smiled innocently. Susan looked at her phone. "Well as much as I enjoy your company we must go. Our dates are here."

"Good luck with Sherlock, Molly."

"Ho…how…" Molly spluttered.

"How did I know?" Molly shock her head yes. "Sweetie, there is nothing that goes on in this city that I don't know about." Susan waved goodbye and headed to the front counter to pay.

"You have to be joking," said the counter clerk, who also happened to be the same bitch who _greeted_ them. Susan ignored her and pulled out Jim's solid black bankcard. The woman's eyes comically widened so much that Susan thought they were going to pop out. Her jaw fell when she read the name on the card.

"My husband will be paying," Susan said stretching the truth. They were not married of course, but Jim did say he did not plan to get rid of her. It was the same thing in Susan's slightly unhinged mind. They watched the woman splutter and swipe the card with shaky hands.

"I am so sorry about the earlier incident, Mrs. Moriarty. I…I did not know," The woman pleaded.

"Hmm, maybe this could be overlooked with some shoes."

"Susan!" Molly gasped.

"You are quite right, Molls! We would also need some accessories."

"Of course, ma'am. Right away, ma'am."

"Your evil," Molly said giggling. Susan just chuckled like a movie mad scientist while rubbing her hands together.

When Molly and Susan walked out, they were dressed to the nines. They were absolutely stunning in the McQueen dresses. Sherlock was glaring at Jim and Jim was just smiling back in a way that was beyond disturbing. Susan cleared her throat and Sherlock saw Molly. His eyes actually widened slightly, which was a big show of emotion for Sherlock. Jim picked up Susan and spun her around.

"I overheard your conversation with the sales clerk."

"Were you spying on me, Mr. Moriarty?"

"Well of course, Mrs. Moriarty."

-o-O-o-_ Present Time _-o-O-o-

Molly looked down nervously at her very expensive black mini and buckled high heels. She felt Susan kick her under the table. Molly glanced up at her friend. Susan was wearing a white dress with puffy sleeves and a black belt around her middle. She was a vision in white.

Over the next hour things actually smoothed out, well as much as it could with both Sherlock and Jim sitting at the same table, and they had a pleasant dinner. They were ordering dessert when Susan caught Mycroft and Greg on the other side of the restaurant. Greg was laughing at something that Mycroft had said. Susan beamed when she saw Greg slip his hand into Mycroft's. She watched her friend blush and smile shyly.

"What has captured you attention, Mrs. Moriarty?" Jim asked sipping his wine. Since they left McQueen's he had yet to call her anything else.

"That," Susan said pointing towards Mycroft and Greg.

"Ew, Iceman is showing emotion," Jim joked.

"Oh hush, Mr. Moriarty."

"Are we having a lovers spat, Mrs. Moriarty?"

"Do we do anything else, Mr. Moriarty?" Susan teased. Susan and Jim were lost in their own little universe; just Sherlock and Molly were lost in theirs.

"I can think of something else we could do." Susan flushed red.

"Okay," Susan said barely above a whisper. Jim eyes widened.

"Check," Jim said snapping his fingers.

**A/N: Okay I am at a bit of a dilemma. Should I let them do the detailed brown chicken, brown cow or should I do a fade to black? I have never written a sex scene before so I am afraid to disappoint. Let me know what you think. Ciao –Macbeth **


	10. The Day After

**A/N: Surprise, I am not dead! :D Soo sorry it has taken so long. I started another fic and put this one on hold (It is an **_**Inglourious Basterds **_**fic if any of you are interested :D). Then life got in the way. Nevertheless, I am back. Yay! Just to let you know, I may take a while to update sometimes, but I WILL NOT give up on this story. Even of me, you are here to read. Not listen to me ramble. Let the reading commence! **

The Woman in 221C

Chapter 10: The day after

Susan stood in front of the mirror. She ran her fingers thru her hair and let out a frustrated sigh. She fidgeted before removing her cloths, though leaving her knickers on. She turned towards the door, before turning back towards the mirror.

"You can do this," she told her reflection. She eyed the girl opposite of her. This was it. _The moment. _She was going to have sex with Jim. Sex _with _Irish. Susan paced the bathroom, before roughly opening the bathroom door. She wasn't going to lose her nerve!

Jim laid out on her bed, naked as the day he was born, tapping away on his phone. Noting her presence, he snapped his phone shut and placed it on the nightstand. He stretched his arms and rested them on top of his head.

"So are doing this or what?" he said with his trademark sly smile. Susan tried glaring at him but it was all she could do calm down her nerves. Noticing her edginess, Jim leaned up and grabbed her arm, dragging her on top of him. She yelped in surprise as her body became flushed with his.

Jim rolled them over to where he hovered over her. His eyes trailed down her body. He quirked an eyebrow when his eyes landed on her underwear.

"Pink Hawaiian hula-hula satin panties?" Jim asked with a chuckle. Susan turned her head away as she felt a blush take over her face. "No, no, none of that," he said turning her back to facing him. He pressed their lips together and she was lost.

o-O-o

"Hey, Susan."

"Hey, Greg." Susan smiled as she walked across the crime scene to stand beside the DI. Sherlock walked past them. He glanced at Susan, gave her a disgusted grimace, before moving towards the body, with John in tow.

"Do I even want to know?"

"It is just Sherlock sticking his nose in other people's business again. However, not even Sherlock can bring me off my high today."

"Someone got lucky last night," Lestrade said, chuckling. Susan laughed and gave him a playful shove.

"So how did your date go?" Greg blushed and remained tight-lipped. Susan decided to start talking again, when it became apparent that Greg wasn't going to say anything else. "Well, from what I saw, you two were pretty cozy." Greg shot her an accusatory glare.

"You were spying on us?"

"Yes and no. I happen to be on a date as well. However, I may have snap a few photos as well. Wanna see? I printed them out this morning," Susan said handing over a hefty stack of photos.

"Only snap a few, huh?"

"Minor details," Susan said waving him off.

"Ughh, can I get a copy of this one?" Greg asked sheepishly.

"Silly billy, those are your copies," Susan laughed. "Oh, who was the idiot downstairs that had almost accidently cross contaminated the evidence?"

"Ahh I see you met Anderson," Greg commented with a smirk. "Sherlock can't stand him either." He pocketed the photos as him and Susan walked towards the body.

o-O-o

"_Tell me, Susan!"_ Melissa practically yelled into Susan's ear over the phone.

"Calm down, Mels," Susan tried calming down her sister, while trying not to laugh. Melissa rarely got excited, but lately it was as if she was on a constant sugar rush. It also did not help that Susan kept her night with Jim a secret and has refused to discuss any of it with Melissa for the past two weeks. She knew it was driving her sister crazy with suspense and it just made it all the better.

"_You are being completely unfair!"_

"I am being unfair?! When am I ever fair? It is like you don't even know me," Susan joked as she walked out of the Supermarket, pushing her buggy filled with groceries out to the car Mycroft let her borrow for the day. He said she could keep it, but she wasn't have any of that nonsense.

"_You are impossible. You are lucky you are my little sister. Oh, what are you and Rhys doing this Sunday?"_

"Nothing planned. Jim and Sebastian won't even be in the country for another week and a half."

"_Splendid! I have someone I want you two to meet!"_

"Oh, sounds serious. You haven't introduced me to a significant other since…. Well, never," Susan laughed. Susan positioned the phone where she was balancing it between her shoulder and ear as she started to unload the bags into the trunk of the car. She heard a loud screech of worn out car breaks behind her. Susan had no time to react before she heard a sliding door open and a rough hand cover her mouth, before she was dragged into the vehicle. Her phone and bag of groceries laying forgotten next to the car.

"_Susan? Are you still there? Susan?!"_

o-O-o

Susan slowly became lucid as she blinked her eyes a couple time. The first thing that greeted her was a blinding overhead light. She lolled her head to the side to escape it and her head swam in pain. She instinctually tried to lift her hands to cradle her throbbing head, however her hands wouldn't move like they were supposed to. She tugged them again and it finally processed through Susan's foggy, pain laced mind that they weren't going to move.

Ahhh, so she was kidnapped. Great. No, really this _was _actually great for Susan. It had been a long while since she was on the radar and worth kidnapping. It was like the good old days. God, she has missed them.

Susan glanced around the room and saw another person. It was a girl. She had a pretty nasty wound on her head. Susan didn't envy the headache she going to have when she came around. Susan leaned as far as she could to get a better look at the mystery girl.

Her head hung forward as well did her body. The only thing keeping her from toppling out of the chair was that her hands were also tied behind her back. Susan couldn't get a good look of the girl's face. Her long hair draped in front of it. However, she looked familiar.

"Molly?" The girl made a pain filled groan in recognition to the name. Fuck a duck! They got Molly. Now, this just confused the hell out of Susan. She could understand why someone would want to kidnap her. Maybe to settle an old debt or some revenge that was long overdue. But, who the hell did Molly piss off? Molly couldn't hurt a fly. Yeah, she could cut up dead things all day, but she could never hurt the living. Hell, she barely managed to talk to them. None of it made sense.

"Molly?" Susan tried again. "Molly, you got to wake up."

"Ughhh," Molly groaned as she lifted her head. She winced as pain racked her body. "Susan?" she asked when her eyes landed on Susan sitting in a chair couple of feet away from her.

"Morning, princess." Susan tried to smile but it felt more like a grimace.

"Are you okay?"

"Other than a pounding headache, throbbing wrists, and desperate need to piss, I'm okay. You?"

"That about covers it for me too," Molly gave a small smile, despite the bleak situation. "Where are we?"

"No clue," Susan said shrugging, disregarding the pain.

"What is going to happen to us?" Molly asked, her voice juddered and her eyes welled up with tears.

"Hey, no crying. We are going to fine," Susan said trying to console the frightened woman. "I have been in positions like these loads of times." Molly gave her a confused expression Before Susan could explain, a door opened and it drew their attention away from each other. A masked man walked into the room. Molly was the first to speak.

"Wh-who are y-you?" Molly asked, her voice shaken with terror.

"Your worst nightmare," the man said pulling down his mask.

**A/N: So how was it? You know I love hearing from my lovely readers :D Also **_**Frostivy**_**, if you are still reading this I just couldn't help but make a reference from what you said in your email. To funny to not work it in lol.**

**I know it is short and I am still not happy with it… but I didn't want you guys to wait any longer. Hope you liked it. Till next time -Macbeth **


End file.
